


What Christmas Means to Me, or, Strange Carolers

by tmwillson3



Category: Strange Magic (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Christmas Fluff, Christmas song overload, F/M, Holiday Shenanigans, Marianne and Bog are Grinches, Marianne and Bog dress as Santa and Mrs. Claus, caroling
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-01
Updated: 2015-12-15
Packaged: 2018-05-04 07:49:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 17,891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5326388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tmwillson3/pseuds/tmwillson3
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bog needs to raise money to support a charity of his choice, and Stuff and Thang suggest caroling, after much encouragement from Griselda.  The problem they have is that there are a lack of women in the caroling group, until he meets Dawn.  The two groups come together to sing Christmas carols, despite much clashing between the Christmas-hating Marianne and Bog.  But when Roland comes along with a rival caroling group, can the segmented group get past their differences to beat Roland, and maybe discover the true meaning of Christmas?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Last Christmas

 

_“Last Christmas, I gave you my heart,_

_But the very next day, you gave it away._

_This year, to save me from tears,_

_I’ll give it to someone special.”_

 

“It’s the most wonderful time of the year-“

An alarm clock smashed against Marianne’s wall as she swatted the offending music and time piece away, snuggling under her covers to stay warm and avoid the disease called holiday cheer.

“Wrong-o! Correction: it’s the _worst_ time of the year! Oh the joys of over-commercialized holidays, and it’s only December first! Can it be over now, please? This is going to be a bad day,” groused Marianne as she got out of bed.

Marianne had not always been such a Grinch during the Christmas season, as Dawn liked to tell her best friend, Sunny.  Once upon a time, Marianne had loved Christmas, for all the fun things her family did together. 

But then, her mother had died on Christmas Eve, and then, just when Christmas became beautiful again, the unthinkable happened.

Marianne had met a guy named Roland.  He swept her off her feet and spoke sweet nothings in her ear, making her feel like the luckiest girl around.  They eventually got engaged, and they agreed to get married on Christmas Day, to bring some holiday cheer to the celebration, as well as brighten the holidays for her father.  Marianne gladly gave her heart to Roland, for surely he loved her as much as she loved him.    

That was all fine and dandy until the day of the wedding.  Marianne had walked into the back of the church, needing a moment to breathe, away from Dawn.  She also wanted to give Roland a boutonniere, and when she heard his voice, she ran to him, only to discover him in the arms of another woman, him holding mistletoe over her head and kissing her everywhere he could. 

Needless to say, Marianne ran after that.  Dawn found her before she got too far, and so the wedding was called off.  That day, a lot of things were called off.  Marianne changed.  She stopped trying to please her father and Roland, and she cut her hair.  She changed how she dressed.  But most importantly, she swore off Love and Christmas.  Never again would she be fooled by either one, as both had taken her heart, crushed it, and laughed at her. 

Marianne’s day did not get better at work.  Everyone had started listening to the infernally cheery same number of Christmas songs over and over again, so she could not escape it. 

On the way home, Marianne saw a church sign that read “Wishing you love, joy, and peace this Christmas season”.  She laughed and shook her head at the silly words.

“I’ll have peace: when all that Christmas music is turned off.  I’ve got joy: whenever I practice my fencing or hit Roland.  Joy and peace are overrated.  Love is the one thing I don’t want.  Stay far away from me, Love.  I’m not your fool anymore.”

To make matters worse, her father threw a party that night, and Roland (who still tried to win her back in increasingly stalkerish ways) appeared, his three wingmen in tow with a radio. 

In a terrible impression of Elvis, Roland began to sing, “Aye’ll-ll have a blue Christmas without you!”

He got down on his knees, singing into an unplugged microphone (because he always liked an audience and being the center of attention) while Marianne shouted his name, and told him to stop playing with his hair.  He stopped twirling his hair, a puppy dog look on his face, and he started making sweeping hand gestures as he continued, “I’ll be so blue, just thinking ah-ah-ah-bout you!”

Marianne tried to distance herself from Roland, but he kept following as he sang.  Marianne’s comments brought smiles to several in the audience.

“You haven’t even thought of me this whole time.  It’s a female, alright…..Who cares about decorations, or even Christmas for that matter? Not me.”

That last part got a resigned sigh from her father, he looking upset.  But Marianne continued, avoiding Roland and his embraces.

“Of course it’s not the same.  I’m not there to swoon over you like every other female does... I don’t know about your memories, but mine sure aren’t like that.  They sure aren’t blue, nor are snowflakes.  And whoever heard of blue snowflakes?”

“But I’ll, have a blue, blue, blue, blue Christmas,” finished Roland, leaning in.

“Hmph! Fat chance.  I’m sure someone’ll keep you warm and make it not-blue,” said Marianne, proceeding to try to kick Roland in the family jewels. 

Roland’s sense of self-preservation was too great for that, so he dodged that painful disaster, unlike other times at her hands/feet previously.  But as he moved away, he got quiet, allowing Marianne to speak.

“Get out of here, Roland! And for that matter, get out of my life! I’m having a holly, jolly Christmas, without you!” Before she knew it, she found herself singing the song that had been played on repeat right after she found out.  “Last Christmas I gave you my heart, but the very next day, you gave it away.”

At that, her face scrunched up slightly at the thoughts in her head, but she ran with it, pushing Roland.  Roland continued to back up and began to sing his song again.  Marianne’s expression and tone of singing changed as she began to sing at the same time a very different song.

“I’m simply having a wonderful Christmastime! Simply having a wonderful Christmastime! The word is out, about the town.  I don’t need you, so get on out! Simply having a wonderful Christmastime! Simply having a wonderful Christmastime…Without you!”

Roland tripped as she told him to get on out, making him fall to the ground.  He continued to crawl away from Marianne and her dangerous feet and singing about her not needing him at Christmas.  When she screamed the last bit in his face about having fun without him, he got to his feet and tried to escape out the door.  But, Marianne caught up and helped kick him out, a smug grin of satisfaction on her face as she slammed the door in his face, waving and saying good bye. 

“Now that was fun,” she said, dead silence in the room.

Finally, her father cleared his throat and thanked everyone for coming.  Marianne went to a dark corner of the room to avoid her father, as she was sure that her father had invited Roland to come, and had even encouraged him to sing to Marianne.

It was just as Marianne began to wonder what had happened to her bubbly sister that Dawn appeared in front of Marianne, jumping up and down and squealing.  That could mean one thing only: she had met someone new.

“Who is it, Dawn?”

“His name is Bog, and we’re going to join a group of Christmas carolers with him, you, me, Sunny, and the triplets.  Aren’t you excited?” she said, eyeing her sister’s already reddening face.  “Just met him today.  It’s going to be so much fun!”

“What?!”

That was also the reaction Bog had when earlier that day, he had been told by his boss at work that it was his turn this year to come up with an idea for raising money for the company’s yearly Christmas donation.  He would be allowed to choose the charity, but it was on him if he did not raise enough by company standards.

“What?!” he bellowed, before stomping out of the office and finding his two underlings, Stuff and Thang.

After scaring everyone within eyesight of him as he marched to his office, he found his nervous employees.

“In my office.  Now!”

Three hours later, no one had thought of a good idea.  Stuff and Thang left for lunch at that, promising to come back with good ideas.

At lunch, the two plotted.

“I can’t believe this.  How on earth are we going to think of something and pull it off with BK, the Grinch Incarnate? We’re doomed.  We need to google as many charity things as possible,” said Stuff, eating her lunch quickly and pulling out her laptop. 

“I’m just so nervous.  What if we don’t think of anything new? And what if he doesn’t like them? We gotta help him,” worried Thang.

“What if he does like it? We’re going to have to do it.  Here’s a good site.  Now, write these down so that you can tell them all to him when we get back.”

“Me? Why me? You’re the one with the computer!” said Thang.

“He likes you more.  Now, listen carefully.”

Twenty minutes later, they had a list of fifteen ideas, and so they headed back to the office.  As they walked past the main square, they saw construction workers putting up the last bits of Christmas Town, with lights, decorations, fake snow (at least until the real snow came), loud music, and a village complete with elves and a Santa Claus.  On the outer fence, a large, red and white sign read: Do you like to sing? Want to win $1,000 towards the charity of your choice? Then join the Caroling Extravaganza!”

Beneath the words, contact information was displayed, and Stuff took a picture of the sign, as a backup idea for them. 

“Thang, you sing, right?”

“Sure do, just like you.  Just don’t have as good a voice as you.  But the Boss has a pretty stellar voice.”

“Perfect.  Let’s bring this up to him as well.”

After dismissing the first fifteen topics, Bog was in a rage.  He listened to their final idea, and just as he was about to laugh and throw them out of his office for suggesting that they do something as stupid as become Christmas carolers, his boss walked in the door.

“That’s a lot of money to be given to charity.  That’d be perfect.  You should do it.  I’ll go find others here in the office who like to sing to help you out.  Thang, go sign yourselves up for that contest.”

“Yes, ma’m!”

“But Mom! You can’t be serious!” yelled Bog in distress.  “And you know how much I hate Christmas.”

“Why do you think I put you in charge this year, my Son? Have fun!” she tittered before wandering out of the office to find more carolers.

By the end of the day, two big guys, including one named Brutus, appeared who would sing bass, along with a guy nicknamed Imp.  Thang and Bog would sing tenor, with Stuff singing alto.  The problem they had was that they did not have any other women who could sing, and no sopranos. 

Bog, Stuff, and Thang went to the main square after work to scope out the area.  While there, Bog turned a corner and bumped into a blonde with pixie-cut hair and a bubbly personality.  She looked up a long way at the very tall Bog, but when she saw his face, she smiled and started to mouth words.  Bog almost thought she was saying, “Merry Christmas, Darling.”

The girl apologized for bumping into him, which Bog waved off and started walking away, to keep up with the other two. 

As he walked, Thang said, “So what are we going to do about the lack of women and sopranos in our caroling group?”

Bog was about to answer when the blonde ran up to Thang, a sparkle of something in her eyes.

“Caroling, as in Christmas caroling? I _love_ caroling! I love Christmas! I’m a soprano; I could join you.  I’m Dawn Fairfield, by the way,” she said, holding out a hand to Bog.

Bog opened and closed his mouth in awe at the forward woman, but Thang was oblivious and too happy to find help to notice Bog’s reluctance.

“That’d be wonderful, Ms. Fairfield! We just need a few more women.  We got five guys and one woman, well, two now.”

“Oh! I can help with that! I got friends who love to sing Christmas carols.  It’s going to be so much fun, drinking hot chocolate, standing outside in the snow, and singing carols like angels.  I can hardly wait!” chirped Dawn, pulling out her cell phone. 

She turned to Bog and said, “So, what’s your number? I’ll text you my number once you give me yours, and then we can plan out some practices and to get everyone in the same room, okay?”

Bog nodded in shock while Stuff gave Dawn his cell number, as well as introducing the three of them to Dawn.  Dawn then texted him as she said she would. 

“Well, I have to head home for a family party, but I look forward to seeing you all again soon!”

“Bye, Ms. Fairfield! Thanks so much for your help!” cried out Thang.

“Oh, no need to be so formal.  Please call me Dawn.  Right, Boggy?”

“Bog,” corrected Bog at once.

“Whatever.  Have a good night, Boggy, Stuff, and Thang!”

Dawn flitted off as Bog stood there, finger in the air to correct her again.  That was when he realized that he had big problems ahead.

“I have to go.  You two finish up checking out the area, and report to me tomorrow with a plan of action for setting up with this group of people, especially you, Thang, since you’re the one who opened his big mouth.  Stuff, help Thang.”

“Aye, sir!” they said, saluting him as he ran off.

Bog got into his car and drove fast.  Everything was happening too fast, and he wanted none of it.  He hated Christmas, the whole Christmas season! As he drove past a familiar church sign, he shook his head and laughed.

“Love, ha! Who would ever want love? It brings you in, gets you all comfortable, and then bam! You propose to the girl of your dreams on Christmas, only to be laughed at and rejected! No thank you! Peace and joy are overrated.”

Bog got into his driveway when the radio switched songs to a Christmas song he despised.  He turned off the car at once and opened the car door, rushing to escape the dreaded music and singing of Andy Williams. 

Bog huffed as he closed his apartment door. 

“It is so _not_ the most wonderful time of the year.  It’s the _worst_ time of the year!”

Next Chapter: This Christmas


	2. Chapter 2: Last Christmas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bog's group meets Dawn's group. Sparks fly between Bog and Marianne as they challenge one another about who should lead their group of carolers.

_Hang all the mistletoe:_

_I’m gonna get to know you better_

_This Christmas._

_. . . . ._

_Fireside is blazing bright;_

_We’re caroling through the night._

_And this Christmas, will be_

_A very special Christmas, for me._

 

“What?! You did what?!”

Marianne raised her hands and voice as she spoke to Dawn.  She had not meant to be so abrupt with Dawn, but there was harmless flirting that would only affect Dawn, and then there was forcing everyone else to come along, especially when one person particularly hated the reason why they were singing.

Dawn looked appropriately cowed for several moments, apologizing for not telling her sooner.  Once Marianne hugged and forgave her sister, Dawn was back to normal cheerful self, happy to explain more.

“So, I was walking through Main Square admiring Christmas Town, when suddenly, I ran into this really, really tall guy! He was tall, dark, mysterious, and even apologized to me! I thought I’d try to flirt with him, but he got away before I could!”

Marianne gave Dawn another disapproving look before Dawn could continue.  Dawn breezed over Marianne’s looks, completely used to them after seeing them from the time she started dating boys.

“So, I tried to follow the guy, and I heard one of his friends mention that they were carolers, and that they needed more women, especially sopranos.  I couldn’t _not_ say something! It was perfect! We could bond over Christmas carols during the Christmas season.  We’ll get to know each other so well.  It doesn’t get more romantic than that,” gushed Dawn with a sigh and flutter. 

“I still can’t believe he agreed to let you,” said Marianne, disbelief in her face.

“Well, he didn’t right away,” replied Dawn nonchalantly.  “He still needed more women, so I thought that since you were a good singer, not to mention the triplets we hang out with, you wouldn’t mind joining it.  Think of all the fun we’ll have together singing together.  And we get to meet new, awesome people!”

Dawn’s face was radiant as spoke of all the good things that would come of them joining this group of carolers, besides her getting to know Bog.  Marianne hated having to dim the light, but it was absolutely necessary now.  She took Dawn’s hand and looked her in the eye as she spoke.

“That’s great, Dawn, but you forgot one important thing: I don’t do Christmas.  Especially all that infernally cheery Christmas music.”

“But, but,” stammered Dawn, her eyes glistening, “You know the most songs of all! You’re the best with them! You’d be so good in that group, and it wouldn’t be the same without you.  Please? For me?” she begged, taking both of Marianne’s hands and squeezing them.  “Roland won’t be allowed to join.  I promise.  Maybe you’ll actually learn to love Christmas again.  Have you ever considered that?”

Marianne laughed a loud belly laugh at her sister’s words.  When she recovered, she made her face as serious as possible.  Knowing Dawn, she would just beg and give puppy dog eyes, guilting Marianne into it eventually.  Besides, it would probably be fun to see Dawn try for a guy who seemed uninterested in Dawn, for a change, and just to keep an eye on Dawn.  Maybe it would open Dawn’s eyes to Sunny at long last, who was ever faithful in the friendzone.

“I doubt I’ll learn to love Christmas, let alone like.  But, because it’s you, I’ll do it.  But I’m in charge.”

“Sure thing! Anything for you, Marianne! Oh, thank you so much for doing this for me!” squealed Dawn as she captured her older sister in a bear hug.  “We’re going to have so much fun!”

After that, Dawn left, intent on finding Sunny and the triplets so that she could convince them to join her.  Marianne went to her room, searching for her pitch pipe from college.  Once she had that, she went to bed, secretly hoping that the mystery would not call Dawn back.

Bog was also hoping, but for him it was more that Dawn would not call back, and that his mother would call off the whole caroling idea.  Knowing Stuff and Thang, they would do as told and have a whole plan laid out, and he did not want to go through with it.

Morning came, and still Griselda persisted in having Bog do the “caroling thing” that his employees had thought of.  But now, she expanded on the idea, giving Bog much to think about.

“Think of this way, Boggy: if you do really well, I might just consider retiring and letting you take full control of the company.  It’s high time I did, but I’d like to know that you won’t be a loveless, lonely Grinch your whole life, taking it out on our employees.  Just try with this, okay? I know you hate it, but I think this could really help you.  And maybe your love life, too,” she finished hopefully.

“I’m leaving now, Mother,” said Bog, exiting upon hearing mention of his love life.  “But I’ll take into consideration what you said.”

Griselda smiled a toothy smile, and Bog went into his office to listen to what Stuff and Thang had to say.  Just as he expected, they had a whole plan of attack of what to sing, how to practice, and ideas for gigs to do before the big extravaganza.  By doing those, they might get good PR for the company and raise some more money for charity than just the prize. 

“You actually put a lot of thought into this,” said a surprised Bog at the end.  “I’ll contact that Dawn girl and see if she changed her mind.  If she doesn’t, then we’ll start Thursday with all the horribly cheerful music I hate so much.”

Dawn was having dinner with Marianne when she got the call from Bog, and Marianne had to cover her ears at the sheer amount of excitement in Dawn’s voice as she spoke.  Marianne felt bad for the dude, but not for long, seeing as he was going to become the originator of all her torture this holiday season.  Once a Thursday practice day was agreed upon, Dawn tried to ask about him more, but he had to rush off after that, much to Dawn’s disappointment.

By Thursday, though, all of Dawn’s excitement was back, and she was bouncy all day.  She bounced at work, at lunch, and even in Sunny’s car as he drove the two sisters to Bog’s home, the triplet girls following behind in their own car.

Once they arrived, Dawn was at the door in a blink, knocking loud enough to make others across the street open their doors in wonder.  Soon, a short, skinny guy with light brown hair and a wide chin opened the door, a genuine smile on his face as he greeted Dawn.

“Thang! It’s so good to see you again! Thang, these are my friends,” said Dawn, introducing the guy in a t-shirt and jeans to the rest of the group.

Once those introductions were made, the group hurried inside to get warm, where the rest of the future carolers sat around a fireplace, plus one more.  The addition was sitting a rocking chair, knitting with a matronly air and humming Christmas songs, her bright red hair matching the stocking she was knitting.  She got up once all the guests appeared, making Marianne realize just how short this woman was, even in her green designer heels and dress.

“So which one of you lovely ladies is Dawn?” she asked, coming up and scrunching the cheeks of Sunny.  Sunny blushed and mumbled something, but was ignored when Dawn spoke up.

“I am, and you must be Boggy’s mother! He said we were practicing at his home tonight.  I must say, I _love_ your head piece! It’s so festive!”

Only Dawn would comment on the jewelry, it being a white circlet with snowflakes going around.  At least it had snowflakes, which appeased Marianne a little.  It was a lot better than bells or candy canes, or something else festive and silly.

“Thank you, dear, you’re too sweet! Boggy, I like her!” she said, calling out to her son, who was burying his face in his hands.

“Mother, not here!”

“Fine, spoilsport,” replied Griselda.  She turned back to Dawn and the others saying, “I’m Griselda, your hostess tonight.  I’m also Bog’s mother, as this little angel has pointed out.  Welcome to our home, and please eat! It’s not often I get to meet friends of my son.”

“Mother, I don’t even know them,” said Bog, frustration leaking out of his words as he ran his hands through his hair.

“But you will!” sing-songed Griselda before she waddled into the kitchen to get more hot chocolate and cookies.

Once Griselda left, Bog stood up, ready to continue the introductions so they could get to know each other better.  As he stood, Marianne realized that Dawn had not been exaggerating when she said that Bog was _super_ tall, like a giant, pointy, black umbrella.  He certainly dressed like it, his dark, ripped jeans and black sweater sticking to this thin, muscular frame.  Poor guy did not realize what he had signed up for in agreeing to let Dawn join, and Sunny was going to have it bad until this crush passed.

Bog introduced the rest of the guys, Marianne was amazed at the sheer size of Brutus, and the pasty whiteness of the resident comedian and programmer, Imp.  Then, Bog introduced everyone to Stuff, who was short, but still taller than Thang.  Where Thang was thin and wiry, Stuff was round and mean-looking, except when she smiled.  Granted, the only time she seemed to smile was when Thang did something silly or messed up, but smile she did on occasion.  Her white smile contrasted greatly with her lime green hair, the random streak of black hair popping in.  Her shirt matched her hair, and coupled with her black jeans, she made quite the contrast to the warm colors of Thang.

Once Bog finished with his introductions, Marianne took her turn to introduce Sunny and the triplets.  Sunny wiggled his foot a bit and stared at the floor whenever the attention was not on him as he tried to not look at Dawn staring at Bog.  With his cap pulled over his face, Sunny looked ready to disappear into the woodwork, his overalls matching the color of the house’s wooden floors.

When all were situated and holding mugs of hot chocolate, Bog began to explain what they had signed up for.

“So, the reason why you’re all here is to sing…Christmas carols,” he finally said, grounding the last two words out and grimacing as though they were painful to say.

Marianne smiled a little, knowing exactly how he felt.

“As it so happens, my company always raises money for charity during the Christmas season, and I’m in charge of it this year.  Stuff and Thang had the terrib-terrific idea to sing Christmas carols by entering the Caroling Extravaganza that the city is hosting this year.  It’s far more money than we’ve ever given before, and it seems simple enough, given the simplicity of the songs.  With that in mind, I’m going to put on a CD, and we’ll just practice these songs-“

“Wait, hold on a minute,” said Marianne, getting out of her seat.  “Have you never sung carols before? Do you know how this works? How do we even know that you’ll be a good leader?”

Bog stiffened, seeing the challenge in Marianne’s fiery brown eyes, not to mention the disbelief in her voice.  He did not like having his leadership be challenged, and Stuff and Thang cringed, knowing what Bog would do next.  He was never one to stand down in a fight.

“As it so happens, Princess,” said Bog, sarcasm oozing, “I have gone caroling before.  Many times when I was younger.  Yes, you don’t use music, but I figured it’d be a good warm-up, unless you’ve got a better way, All Knowledgeable One.”

“Well, as it just so happens,” replied Marianne, laying on the sarcasm as thickly as possible while getting closer to Bog, “I have my pitch pipe with me because I come prepared.  As leader of my group-“

“There will be one and only one leader in this group,” interrupted Bog.  “I’m the leader.  You’ll listen to me since it’s my company and head on the line-“

“But we don’t know you,” cut in Marianne, putting her hands on her hips.  “You barely know us, whereas I do.  I know what my friends are capable of.  You don’t.  We’ll co-lead-“

“We’ll do nothing of the sort,” said Bog, anger making his face get red and his hands to fist up.  He was ready to fight, even if she was a girl.

“Need any help diffusing the situation, Sir?” asked Thang helpfully.

“No,” intoned Bog, his eyes still staring down Marianne.

“Do you know what it _requires_ to lead a caroling group? You have to have thorough knowledge of all sorts of songs, the ability to carry a tune-“

An evil grin came over Bog’s face as he leaned in and towered over Marianne.  He grabbed his cane and held it up to his mouth, its head becoming a makeshift microphone.  With that in hand, he began to sing the song he identified with most, his rich tenor voice filling the room with booming sound.

_You’re a mean one, Mr. Grinch._

_You really are a heel!_

_You’re as cuddly as a cactus,_

_And as charming as an eel,_

_Mr. Grin-inch!_

_You’re a bad banana,_

_With a greasy, black peel!”_

   

When he finished singing, all were quiet.  Finally, after much amazement at hearing his voice perfectly in tune without any warm-up, Marianne got out, “Right.  Well then, clearly you have the voice for it, but that’s only one aspect that’s important to have.”

Bog wanted to throw his hands in the air and strangle her for being so stubborn.  He rubbed his head instead.  Why could she not just compliment him and sit down so they could move on with rehearsal?  They were wasting precious time!

“So what makes you so qualified, Princess? How many years have you been singing? Do you know the songs that well? Do you even know all the words to ‘Jingle Bells’?”

Marianne threw her head back and laughed.  “Of course I do.  Who doesn’t?”

“All five verses?” smiled Bog with deadly intensity.

“Would you like me to demonstrate the fourth verse for you in exquisite detail?” asked Marianne with extra sweetness. “I’m more than happy to help you trip and fall over before I laugh at you.”

Bog took several steps toward Marianne, his demeanor becoming more menacing as he made himself taller.  Thang took the opportunity to speak and said, “Need any help, Sir?”

“No,” said Bog again, still staring at a smiling Marianne.

Before Bog could continue, Marianne asked, “And what about you, Boggy? Do you know all the verses to O Come All Ye Faithful?”

Bog rolled his eyes at her as she continued, “In Latin?”

For a moment, Bog stopped making eye contact with Marianne would swear that he was mouthing the words to himself.  After a minute, he said, “Yes.  They’ve been drilled into my head by the sheer number of times I hear it on the radio, thanks to my employees and mother.”

“You’re welcome, Boggy!” shouted his mother from the kitchen.

“I doubt you’ve heard it as much as I have,” said Marianne.  “It’s never-ending in my life.  I still can’t believe I used to like listening to the same fifteen songs over and over again.”

“Name the twelve gifts from the song, and not in the song order,” challenged Bog, folding his arms and smiling.

“Easy as pie,” said Marianne, trying to intimidate Bog by walking in a circle around him as she spoke.  “A partridge in a pear tree, two turtle doves, three French hens, four calling birds, five gold rings.”

Marianne paused for a moment, and Bog smiled.  He taunted, “Forgot already, Tough Girl, O Fearless Leader who knows all songs?”

“Of course not!” said Marianne in a rush.  “I just needed to catch my breath. Six geese a-laying, seven swans a-swimming, eight maids a-milking.”

Marianne paused again, this time to make sure that she got the gift and number matched up.  The last few always messed her up.

Bog smugly wiggled his hips and piped in, “Nine ladies dancing, perhaps?”

“I was getting there, Oh Impatient King,” drawled Marianne as she smiled and rolled her eyes.  Once the eye roll was done, she trained her gaze back on Bog and finished up with ten lords-a-leaping, eleven pipers piping, and twelve drummers drumming.

As Bog taunted Marianne to continue, Dawn found herself rethinking whether she should be pursuing Bog.  All his talk about hating Christmas made her realize that it would not work for them, and then when she saw him wiggle his hips at Marianne, she could not help but wonder if he was flirting with her. 

The fact that Marianne was smiling while uttering Christmas music was a small miracle unto itself, but to see her get into it with Bog like that… maybe she should suggest Marianne date him instead.  They would be cute together in all their Christmas-hating glory.

“There, almighty Bog King, I said all but one.  Happy now?” she deadpanned.

“Never.  But not bad for a wee Princess like yourself,” responded Bog in kind, making Marianne blush.  Bog was so pleased to have someone to argue with who was worthy of his time and effort, and who was just as knowledgeable as him.  The fact that the person was female had the prettiest brown eyes he had ever seen, contained in such an expressive, passionate face, was just icing on the cake.  He could get lost in those eyes, in all their fiery, sarcastic wonder.

After much prodding and whispering with Stuff, Thang asked, “Sir? Are we ready to begin practice now? It’s getting late.  You two could discuss leadership roles later, right?”

Both Bog and Marianne suddenly realized that they had scant inches between their faces and bodies, Bog leaning over and Marianne on her tiptoes, the better to meet one another in battle.  At that, both took unsteady steps backward until they both leaned against opposite walls.

“Yes, I think it’s time to practice,” said Bog, gesturing toward Marianne.  “And if Tough Girl over there will give the right note for Jingle Bells, we’ll start with that for warm-up.”

After that, the two motley groups transformed into a chorus of one, with the occasional stop of adjustment from Bog and Marianne.  Bog made sure that everyone had the right words and stood properly, while Marianne made sure that their sound had the right blend of voices.  Marianne also tried to suggest songs, but Bog held onto that duty, sometimes conceding to Marianne by picking the songs she suggested.

After another week of no clear decisions made regarding leadership while practicing (with yet more challenges from Marianne and offers of help from Thang), Bog announced at the end of the practice that his mother had found their group a place to perform for the first time that Saturday, at a retirement home.  They were willing to donate as well, depending on how well a job they did of drawing in the audience.  Marianne was surprised.

“You want us to perform already? We’ve only had two practices!”

“But they were good practices, and we blend well.  You said so yourself.  We need to do this, the sooner the better.  We need to get our name out there.  I’ll make a list of songs that we’ll stick to, and we’ll be fine,” said Bog, his tone of voice brooking no opposition.

“Fine?” asked Marianne, her voice rising and ignoring Bog’s body language.  “What’s fine about you having all the power? I want to make my own list.”

“Go ahead.  We’ll compare on the day of.  I doubt it’ll be too different,” answered Bog, shaking his head.

“What about clothing, Bog? Shouldn’t we match?” continued Marianne.  “What kind of dress code should we have?”

Dawn piped in and said, “Why don’t we all wear red and a Santa hat? It’ll be fun! We could be Santa’s Carolers.”

Both Bog and Marianne laughed, using the other for support.  In unison, they said, “Santa hats? Really?”

Marianne added, “Can it be any more cheesy than that?”

“I don’t think so,” said Bog, putting a hand out to give Marianne a high five for her comment.  Marianne slapped his outstretched hand, hard.

“I like the idea,” said Sunny, standing up for Dawn.

After that, all the others agreed with Sunny and Dawn.  Once all others stated their desire and liking for the name, Bog and Marianne paused, not thrilled by the name or costumes.

They really did not like it when Imp chimed in, “Yeah, we’ll be Santa’s Carolers, led by Santa and Mrs. Claus themselves, as our devoted and unyielding leaders.  Very fitting.”

“Oh! I have a white wig you can borrow at home, Marianne!” cried out Dawn.  “You’ll look adorable in it! And I bet Boggy can go find a white beard to wear.  You’d be so cute together!”

“Cute? Us? No way,” said Bog and Marianne in unison.

“Boggy, you’re doing it! It’s for a good cause,” said Griselda, popping her head in.

“And I’m forcing you to do it as well, Marianne.  Boggy can’t dress up on his own; he needs a Mrs. Claus,” said Dawn with resolution.

Realizing a losing battle when they saw it, Bog and Marianne stopped fighting the tide of opinion in favor of them dressing up, even if they were the two least spirited people there. After that, the group split up for the night, preparing for work and their first gig the day after that.  It was going to be busy.

As Marianne picked up her purse, Bog found himself not wanting to see Marianne leave.  It was odd, considering he hardly knew her.  He was pretty sure that she hated Christmas as much as he did, but he officially he did not know.  Nonetheless, he suddenly realized that he needed to talk to her to make her stay a few extra minutes.  Anything to see the way she smiled at him when they fought. 

He took hold of her wrist and stammered, “Marianne, I, uh, I was wondering something.” He had no idea what he was going to say, but it was a start.

“Yes?” replied Marianne, turning toward him, concern in her eyes.  “What is it, Bog? Is something wrong?”

“No, ah, no. Nothing is wrong.  It’s just, ah, I was wondering if you were… actually going to wear that wig on Saturday.”

“Oh, that? Yes, most likely.  I’ll let Dawn help me get all dressed up for the part.  Why?”

Bog hated the idea of Marianne wearing a wig and hiding her dark, wild looks.  But there was no way he was going to say that to her.  That was a _terrible, awful_ idea.

“Just because there are lots of images of Mrs. Claus being old doesn’t mean you have to be old.  It’s nonsense.  Why can’t Mrs. Claus be young? It’d just be such a shame to hide your hair like that.  It deserves to be seen,” said Bog, hating himself for saying such a thing as he blushed.  Way to be obvious about how he felt about her hair and make himself look weird.     

It was now Marianne’s turn to blush, a lot.  There were many things she expected from Bog, but not that.  It was sweet, but so out of place.

“Thanks, Bog.  I’ll, uh, mention that to Dawn.  I’m sure she won’t mind forgoing the wig since it’s Santa himself asking, right?” she said, mock-punching Bog in the arm.  The fact that her fist lingered on top of his arm was ignored by both studiously in favor of smiling at one another like oblivious idiots.

They might have stayed like that longer were it not for Thang coming out of the kitchen and dropping a mug on the tiled kitchen, the mug making a loud thud as it landed.  Thang was shocked to see Bog actually smiling and so close to a woman, especially Marianne after all her challenges.  Both Griselda and Dawn had tried to make him not leave the kitchen, but he had gone anyway.  The two women in question just sighed, as though their favorite toy had been taken from them.

When Bog and Marianne heard the thud, they jumped away from one another, as though burnt by the other.  They looked anywhere but at the person in front of them until Dawn waltzed in, telling Marianne that it was time to go, seeing as the car was finally all warmed up by Sunny.

“Well, I have to go now.  Car’s waiting and all that.  Bye!” squeaked Marianne, her voice too high for her liking but still not moving.

“Okay, see you in a couple days.  Stay safe out there.  We’re supposed to get snow, finally. May all your…. days be white,” stumbled out Bog, looking down.

Marianne touched his arm again, making Bog look into her eyes and see her smile.

“Thanks, Bog.  You, too.”

At that, Marianne scurried out the door, much to Bog’s confusion and gladness.  Griselda started humming “Joy to the World”.

In the car, Dawn said, “Does Boggy realize that your favorite part of winter and Christmas is snow?”

“Bog,” corrected Marianne for Bog.  “I don’t think so.  I think that’s just Bog being himself.”

“How cute and perfect!” sighed Dawn.

Marianne did not dignify that phrase with a response and instead focused her energy on looking for “White Christmas” on the radio as Sunny drove home.  Dawn wondered why Marianne sighed when the song came on.  She had no idea it was because Marianne was imagining Bog’s face lighting up when she touched his arm at the end.  His normally grim, sharp face was softened with a smile, and the dark brown stubble that always seemed present on Bog’s face seemed a little less scratchy in that moment (not that she imagined the scratchiness of his chin, or putting her hand through his dark hair to see if it was that easy to mess up as Bog made it seem).   

Meanwhile, on the opposite side of town, Roland stumbled out of the house of his latest conquest.  As he drove home and cursed the snow, he considered what new places he could try to corner Marianne in to make her listen to him.  He had a new song to sing to her, and he was determined to win her back by Christmas, by any means necessary.  “White Christmas” came on the radio, making him change the channel to avoid hearing the singer curse by wishing more snow upon his home.

In another home, Bog fell asleep with a smile on his face as he listened to the same song.  Had anyone seen him, he would deny that he was smiling, or that Marianne was the cause of his smiling.  But smile he did, especially as he considered Marianne dressed all in red and in a Santa hat.  She would be different, and cute. 

Next Chapter: Carol of the Bells

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s Disclaimer: No, I don’t own Strange Magic, or any of the songs mentioned. All rights go to their respective owners. I hope I did justice to the introductions and descriptions of people. I wanted to start the Butterfly Bog fun with some nerding out, through Christmas songs. Did I mention that I ship Bog and Marianne something fierce? I had way too much fun writing that chapter of them fighting/flirting. Also, for the record, while I don’t know all the verses of “Jingle Bells” or “Adeste Fideles”, I definitely do know “The Twelve Days of Christmas”. I’ve done a lot of caroling in my time, if you hadn’t figured it out. Thanks so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed!


	3. Chapter 3: Carol of the Bells

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The problem with two independent people is that they tend to only want to do things their own way. Here, it has interesting results. They may not have weapons, but they do have piercing glares and obedient (albeit confused) carolers.

_Hark! How the bells, sweet silver bells_

_All seem to say throw cares away_

_……....._

_Ding dong ding dong that is their song_

_With joyful ring all caroling_

_……....._

_Gaily they ring while people sing_

_Songs of good cheer, Christmas is here_

 

“Marianne, you look stunning! You make such a great Mrs. Claus,” gushed Dawn, clapping her hands before hugging her sister.

“Thanks, Dawn,” said Marianne, pleased with the look and the compliment.  “And thanks for helping.  This isn’t my normal color of choice.”

“Ha! I know that,” laughed Dawn.  “But wait until Boggy sees you,” she giggled.

“Bog,” corrected Marianne with resignation.

“Boggy.  He’s going to love the look! I bet he’s going to blush! You’re going to make him like you even more than he already does,” said Dawn, leaning in conspiratorially.

“Wait, what?” asked Marianne, backing away.  “Bog likes me?”

“Sure he does, just like you like him, silly,” said Dawn, giving Marianne an indulgent grin.  “Anyone can see that you like one another.”

“I don’t like him,” said Marianne quickly.  Eventually, she added on, “And he definitely doesn’t like me.  We can’t stand one another.  All we do is argue about who should lead.”

“Sunny says that’s your form of flirting,” said Dawn, remembering Sunny’s comment from practice while the two had argued about the proper enunciation of a word in a song.

“Oh, does he now?” asked Marianne, curious and skeptical.  “What else does he say?”

 Dawn was about to repeat more brilliant things of what Sunny had said when she realized the look on Marianne’s face, of her plotting.  That could only mean bad things for her best friend.

“Nothing, nothing at all,” she squeaked to Marianne.

“That’s what I thought,” replied Marianne.  “Now, let’s go meet up with the others.”

Since the triplets’ parents had come back from vacation, they now had access to the family van.  The six of Marianne’s group decided to meet at the triplets’ house and drive together.  While en route to the retirement home, Marianne cleared her throat to speak.

“Since I have all of you here, I’d like to say a couple quick things before we arrive.  First, make sure you all have fun.  Once upon a time, I used to enjoy caroling a lot.  Just because I’m not having fun doesn’t mean you shouldn’t.”

Marianne looked mostly at Dawn as she said that first part.  That was the main reason why she had not told Dawn what had happened between her and Roland, besides because she was embarrassed to say it out loud.  She wanted Dawn to enjoy Christmas, and Love eventually, pure and innocent as Dawn was.

Then Marianne said, “Second, make sure to keep your eyes on me while at the retirement home.  I’ve got a list of songs that I expect we’ll sing, so keep a look out for the page numbers I signal you with.  And just watch my hand motions for loudness and sound quality.”

“But what about Bog?” asked Sunny from the driver’s seat, keeping his eyes on the snow-covered roads.

“I’m going to speak to him before we start singing.  Generally, our minds run on similar wavelengths when it comes to choosing music, so I expect we’ll have few differences.  If we do, then I’ll convince him.”

When Marianne lowered her voice and threw a fist into her other open hand, all knew that she meant business.  There was no doubt in their minds that she would be able to convince him of that, even if she could not make herself coleader with him.

At the retirement home, Stuff elbowed Thang and said, “Ask him.  Ask him now before the others get here.  Before BK gets distracted.”

Stuff knew Marianne was trouble based on the last two practices, and she did not trust her to not try to hijack the event today.  She was also concerned that once Bog saw Marianne, he would have eyes for only her.  He had stared at her a lot during the second practice.

On the second count, Stuff did not need to worry, as Griselda had been her normal self and tried to help her son see what was happening.

~~~Flashback~~~

“Boggy! Are you all ready to go to the retirement home? I’ve got lots of friends there who are excited to see you perform, especially since you stopped caroling after banning Christmas (and Love) from your life and becoming a Grinch.”

“Yes, Mother,” said Bog automatically, straightening his beard and fake glasses. 

“Got all the music printed?” asked Griselda, stepping behind Bog.

“Yes, Mother,” answered Bog, patting his fat stomach made of pillows.

“Aww, my little boy is all grown-up and playing Santa Claus! I can’t wait for the day in which you do this for my grandchildren,” said Griselda, causing Bog to knock on the pillows so hard that they fell out of his jacket.

“Mother, don’t say such things! You know how I feel about Love,” huffed Bog, picking up the pillows and stuffing them back in.  He found duct tape and did his best to attach the pillows to himself.

“True, but I also know how you feel about Marianne,” said Griselda, pleased with herself.

Bog’s ears turned red, and he turned to face his mother.

“Mother, I don’t like her! And she doesn’t like me.  We argue.  That is all.  Stop trying to meddle in my love life!”

“Whatever helps you rationalize it to yourself, my son.  But mothers know these kinds of things,” said Griselda simply, walking away to leave Bog alone.  “And make sure you call your Aunt Plum to thank her for letting you borrow her second Santa suit.  Maybe if you like it a lot, you’ll play Santa for her.”

“Never that kind of torture,” said Bog.  “I hate Christmas, and I have no desire to stand in a cheesy rendition of the North Pole and listen to whiny, stinky toddlers for hours on end while having nothing to hear except the same Christmas songs played over and over again.  Aunt Plum’s hired other guys to play Santa at her store, so let’s leave it at that.”

“You never know!” cried out Griselda.  “Maybe you just need the right Mrs. Claus!”

“Mother, please stop talking!” said Bog, rubbing his Santa hat in frustration.  “You’re not helping!”

Griselda sighed, leaving Bog truly alone.  Bog allowed himself one moment to imagine Marianne dressed as Mrs. Claus, and he was pleased with the images.  After that, he swore to himself to not think about her anymore, or look at her.  He could _not_ give anyone any ideas about him and Marianne.

~~~End of Flashback~~~

Thang approached Bog timidly.  Bog stared at him.

“I’m waiting,” said Bog as Stuff elbowed Thang again.

“Uh, sir? Just wanted to ask you something really fast.  Do you think Marianne will give us trouble today, after all she has done in the first two practices?”

Bog smiled a predator’s grin.  “I fully expect her to, which is why I need you to grab the other three and bring them to me at once.”

Once all were assembled in front of Bog, he said, “As you know, we’re here today to help raise money for cancer research.  We’re also doing it because we care about our image and don’t want retribution from my mother,” said Bog to much laughter.  “So towards that end, we need to discuss one important thing: Marianne.  As you know, she likes to take control.  I’m sure she has ideas of what we should sing, but I’ve already got the list here, so don’t worry.  I’m going to talk to her before we start to sing to discuss song choices.  Once that is settled, just focus on me, and me alone.  No matter what she says or does, look at and listen to me.  I’m the one whose behind is on the line.  Got it?”

“Right, Boss!” said all in unison.

Soon after that, the van arrived.  Bog saw them coming, as did Stuff and Thang.  Stuff looked warily at Marianne, while Thang made sure that all were wearing red. 

Bog tried not to look at Marianne, but it was hard not to when she completely changed her look.  She looked so natural there, without the usual amount of purple eyeshadow and eyeliner, not to mention dark lipstick.  She was no longer wearing dark colors and purples, but red, and in red jeans and a curve-hugging red sweater (cuffed with white fur to match the hat, no doubt), and she was smiling as she got out of the car.  She looked different, and amazing.  Her hair was still just as wild, just the way he liked it. 

Bog cursed himself inwardly for making the suggestion that she not wear a wig, as he was making it hard for himself to not look at her.  But the show must go on, and so he headed toward her.

Griselda drove into the parking lot then, so she also got to see the union of Bog and Marianne, Marianne smiling and delightful in red, and Bog’s face a lovely shade of light red as well as he stared with a blank face and headed toward her.  Not even Dawn was as pleased as Griselda to see his reaction.

“Welcome, all, to the Dark Forest Retirement Home.  My mother knows a lot of people here, so they’re expecting great things of us.  Let’s warm up inside the coat room before heading to the main lobby to start singing.  We’ll change locations several times during the next three hours we’re here,” commanded Bog.

Marianne started walking forward, and the rest followed.  Soon, Bog caught up to her, signaling with his head for her to stay outdoors a moment.  Marianne nodded.

Marianne was trying not to laugh at the discomfort of Bog in the big red suit, so once they were alone, she allowed herself a few moments to let loose.  Bog stared at her in confusion until she calmed down.

“Sorry about that, Bog.  I just never pictured you in all your tall, skinny glory in a Santa suit.  You look uncomfortable, but you pulled off the stomach well.  Are they pillows?” asked Marianne with curiosity.

Bog stared at Marianne a moment and realized that she was in fact being honest about her laughter.

“Yes, just pillows.  You can test it for yourself, if you’d like,” said Bog.

Marianne gingerly poked Bog’s stomach, pushing in until she was sure they were pillows.  “Impressive.”

Bog smiled.  Then, he said, “Did you have a safe drive here? All ready to go? Got the pitch pipe?”

“Yes, to all three,” said Marianne, smiling back at him.

“Good.  Here’s the music I planned for us to sing.  We’ll start easy and encourage others to sing along.”

“That’s great.  Let’s compare it to what I thought of,” replied Marianne, pulling out her sheet of handwritten notes and pushing it next to Bog’s sheet of paper.  Soon, they saw differences in songs after four songs.  Both opened their mouths to speak and justify their choices.

“Boggy, your carolers are waiting for you!” shouted Griselda.  “You can kiss Marianne in private later!”

“Mother!” said Bog, as both him and Marianne turned away from each other and blushed.

“We should have Sunny announce us.  He made similar comments about us,” said Marianne suddenly.

“Done,” said Bog.  “There aren’t too many differences between our choices.  Let’s stick to mine for today, and we’ll discuss this more afterward.”

“No,” she said.

Bog stared at Marianne and lifted his head to the skies, as though praying for patience to not strangle the headstrong woman.

“We’re doing it my way.  Come on, Marianne, we don’t have time.  Not here.”

Bog left before Marianne could protest more, making Marianne upset.

“My way is better,” muttered Marianne under her breath as she walked in.  Both came in looking upset, and everyone assumed it was because of what Griselda had just said.

“Sunny, you announce us,” said Marianne.

“Right!” he said, and he got in front to speak. “Welcome, everyone! I’m Sunny, and I’m a part of a new group called Santa’s Carolers, led by Santa and Mrs. Claus themselves.  Thanks for coming to listen to us, and feel free to sing along to any songs you know! Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays!”

At that, both Bog and Marianne held up fingers to signify the page number, Marianne playing the pitch pipe as well. 

The singers started off with a rendition of “Here Comes Santa Claus” (as was only fitting), followed by “Deck the Halls” and “Jingle Bell Rock”.  At some point during “Deck the Halls”, Imp started imitating Sunny by exaggerating how he stood by standing tall and placing a hand over his chest.  That made the other two basses start laughing, making their “la” sound more like “ra”, which encouraged Imp to simply start singing the word as “ra”.  Marianne wanted to get angry at them, especially Imp, but it was hard to do when all three guys stood ramrod straight with expressionless faces while singing like that.  It amused her, and she quickly discovered that the audience enjoyed it as well. 

During the third song, the basses started dancing in place, acting like ballerinas.  Marianne had to try really hard not to laugh and keep on singing.  Others were not faring so well.  As Marianne sang, she watched Sunny and Dawn smiling, and the ridiculous guys who danced.  Then her eyes rested on Bog.  He smiled, making her smile as well. 

For the first time in a long time, Marianne was truly happy.  She knew what joy was again, to know that she was surrounded by those she cared about.  Not that she knew it was joy, but she felt the happiness that usually accompanies it.  She was having fun, and for once, she was not thinking about Roland.  The last time she had gone caroling had been with Roland, and that forever tainted her, making her not want to sing Christmas carols.  But in this moment, with these people, Marianne realized she could make new memories, better ones.         

The next song was “Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer”, and Marianne wondered if the guys knew additional words to that song.  She turned to Bog, and their eyes met.  She jerked her head back at those guys, a smirk on her face.  Bog understood at once.  With one nod of his head to the jokesters, the trio smiled and gave thumbs up.  What followed was a great deal of echoes with help from the audience, Imp standing in front and using his hands to encourage them to sing with him.

Unfortunately, the next song was one of the songs that Bog and Marianne did not agree on.  Bog gave the command to start “Carol of the Bells”, and his group got into it.  It was during the second verse that Bog gave her a look, and Marianne smiled sweetly.  Her song would clash horribly with his, so she signaled her group to go to a different page but told them to wait to sing. 

She joined in with Bog as his group sang, “Oh, how they pound, raising the sound”, and then her group came in with “Ring Christmas Bells”, acting like an echo to his group.  There was a little confusion at first, but with both Bog and Marianne singing louder to make sure that their groups heard them, the others caught on.  Bog and Marianne continued to face one another and sing, heads bobbing and feet tapping with the rhythm.

As Bog’s group finished up, Marianne signaled the other alto in her group to sing harmony to go along with Dawn’s strong soprano, to make up for the lack of singing.  Both girls knew the harmony well from years of singing together when younger, and Bog watched as Marianne continued.

But Bog was not content to let her upstage him.  No, she would have company, and he knew just the song.  He remembered a song from one of his favorite Christmas groups (when he used to like Christmas), Trans-Siberian Orchestra, and taking that cue, he had his group start singing “God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen”.

Marianne was surprised to hear his group start another song, but when she figured out what it was, she grinned.  She signaled for everyone to sing louder and a little slower, and Bog did his best to match her rhythm, both making hand signals while watching each other for any other additions.  Bog got through one verse, and he could see Marianne move her hands a little faster, so he encouraged his group to catch up.  Marianne, only trying to signal a repeat of the song, followed suit with Bog, going faster.  Words flew from the singers’ mouths until it was almost like they were chanting, singing faster and faster as Bog and Marianne egged each other on. 

When Bog’s group neared the end of his song, and Marianne told her tired group to repeat one more verse.  The two groups finished at the same time in a loud climax, Bog and Marianne’s hands falling and jerking to a stop at the cutoff.  When it was quiet, all breathed a collective sigh of relief that they had made it through that marathon of singing.  And then they heard the applause.

“That’s my Boggy!” shouted Griselda, clapping her hands madly.  “You didn’t do that at the house, you sly dog! You’ve been holding back!”

At that point, it was decided that the group needed a break, so all dispersed to talk to residents.  Bog and Marianne decided that they needed to talk before anything else happened.

“Well, that happened,” said Marianne, not sure what else to say.  “But quick thinking on your part.  Now I know why that song is an instrumental.”

“Never again,” said Bog.  “I don’t think my old body can handle trying to keep up with you.”

“You, old? You don’t look it,” said Marianne, confusion in her eyes.

“I’m eight years older than you, if what Dawn was saying at practice is true,” grumbled Bog, looking down to hide his embarrassment of being much older.

Marianne remembered the conversation, of how happy Dawn was to be able to drink real alcoholic eggnog, and had been for a couple years.  She then proceeded to say how Marianne was lucky to be two years older than her and so had had more time to drink the amazing stuff.  Marianne thought Dawn crazy for enjoying the odd-tasting liquid. 

“Age is just a number, Bog.  It just means you have more… wisdom.  Yes, wisdom,” she said, nodding emphatically to make it seem like she had not just made it up in her head.

“I appreciate you trying to appease me, Marianne, but there’s no point.  “I’m old and hideous, too hideous to be loved,” he said, the words slipping out before he could think them through.  He immediately regretted saying them, as it would make it look like he wanted pity, which he certainly did not.  Especially not from Marianne.

“Who called you hideous? You’re not hideous,” she replied, stepping toward Bog and tugging on his beard to bring him to her level.  “I don’t think you’re hideous.  Anyone who tries to tell you otherwise, well, I’ll make them see.”

Bog gulped at hearing Marianne’s sincere words.  So few people would ever give him a second glance, and here was this girl, almost a little fairy of a thing, standing up for him despite barely knowing him.  How had this happened, and could it possibly last?

“Thank you, er, Marianne. I appreciate it,” he said as a small smile appeared on his face.  Marianne just smiled back and nodded.

“Go get some mistletoe, you two!” said Imp before disappearing.

At that, the two realized how close they were and backed off.  They really needed to stop doing that, or else it would turn into more than just teasing from Imp.  They sat down and looked anywhere but at one another.

“So, about our little duel,” said Bog.  “We’ll practice anything crazy like that in the future.  Want to just stick to your songs for the rest of the day?”

Marianne stood up in surprise.  Just like that, he had agreed.  What had changed? She was happy, but as she remembered one of his choices, she answered, “Sure, except one.  At the end, we should do both.  You can do your choice of ‘Holly, Jolly Christmas’, and then I’ll jump in with ‘We Wish You a Merry Christmas’.  We’ll switch on and off singing until you’re done, and you can join us for one verse so we end together.”

“I like the sound of that,” agreed Bog.

Both sat in silence until Dawn floated in, asking what had happened.  Marianne asked her to bring everyone in.  Once all were present, they apologized for the last song.

“Don’t be sorry,” said Sunny.  “All people have been telling me is how much they enjoyed watching and listening.  It’s good.”

Everyone agreed, making Bog and Marianne feel a little better.  Then they explained their plans for the last song, which everyone was okay with.  They were just glad to have advance warning.

The rest of their time singing went fast as they moved to the dining room then activity room.  Each room had different elderly people, some more spirited and louder than others when it came to singing.  By the end, they had a large group of people singing along as they wished all a Merry Christmas.  The group received a large donation after their performance, with several asking the group to come by any time they felt like it.

It was as the group was walking to their cars that Marianne seemed to realize something.  She stopped and then took the hat off her head and beamed it at Imp.

“Ow! That hurt! What was that for?”

“For suggesting that Bog and I dress like the Clauses.  I’m the least spirited here.”

“In general, or with regard to Christmas? In either case, I think you’re wrong,” chimed in Bog.

“Oh, really? You know someone who hates Christmas more than me?” responded Marianne, heading toward Bog, ready to fight.

“Oh boy, there they go again with their fighting,” said Sunny to Dawn.

“Quiet, Sunny.  You’re next,” said Marianne, her eyes still on Bog.  “Well, Mr. King? Just how Grinchy are you?”

“I hate all of it,” came his simple answer.

“I hate it more,” she countered.

“Doubtful,” he said.  “I’ve hated it for at least five years.”

“Whatever I lack in time I make up for in passion,” responded Marianne.

The group around them just got in their cars, waiting for them to finish having their moment of sharing the anti-Christmas joy.

“Fair enough,” said Bog, taking off his hat and beard, his glasses gone as soon as he got outdoors.  “We’ll call each other equals for now until we can find some way to prove who does it better.  I’m just glad I can remove this costume now.  It’s steamy with all these layers on! Why do people willingly do this?”

“Beats me,” said Marianne.  “They’re just so caught up in the fake cheer and commercialism of the season that they’ll do anything to be a part of it.  No thank you.”

“Agreed,” said Bog.  “I think the only good part of this costume idea is-“

“Is what?” asked Marianne, squinting at a blushing Bog.

Bog had almost said Marianne, but that would be awkward.  He went for the less awkward truth.

“You not wearing the wig.  It was refreshing and different.”

“Yeah, different.  I’m used to being called that,” said Marianne, taking her turn to look at the ground.

“That’s what I like about you, though.  You’re different from everyone else,” said Bog truthfully.

“Really?” she asked.  When she saw his answering smile, she said, “Thanks, Bog.”

“Don’t mention it, Tough Girl.  I’ll lose my reputation.”

She laughed at his words, and soon he was joining her in the laughter.  In that moment, Bog realized that this whole caroling thing was not going to be so bad.  If he got to deal with Marianne the Christmas-hater more frequently, then he would take it.  He found peace in the idea that he would not be alone in this torturously sweet time. 

Thang honked his car’s horn, making them say their goodbyes at last.  Bog made sure to give Thang a glare as he got in.  Stuff just shook her head in exasperation.

The next day, Bog got three phone calls.  The first was from the local children’s hospital, asking him if his group would be willing to come as Santa and elves to visit kids and sing to them.  Bog agreed at once.  Soon after that, a call came from a church, asking them to sing at an outdoor festival they had coming soon.  Bog also agreed to that, knowing that it would be good practice.  Finally, a few hours later, the Caroling Extravaganza organizers called, telling them that they had been accepted to join the competition.

“Wait, aren’t all groups allowed to join the competition?” asked Bog.

“No, said the speaker.  We select twenty out of a group of fifty usually.  But, after that video of yours when you sang three different songs at once, we were all impressed.  We can’t wait to see what kind of singing and skits you do for the Extravaganza.  Congrats again.”

Bog thanked the guy again before hanging up.  It was then that he saw his mother’s head poke out of the doorway.

“Who was that, Boggy? You’ve had a lot of calls today,” said Griselda, a knowing grin on her face.

“Mother, what did you do?”

“Me? Nothing much.  Just what I always do, try to help my son succeed in life,” she replied, coming over to Bog and grabbing his chin and squishing it, just as she loved to do when he was growing up.

“Mother, did you record me when we performed at the retirement home?”

“Oh yes, the whole thing.  It came out so well! I can’t wait to show the others at work what you pulled off.  I might have also sent the video clip of the three song combination to your aunt.  She knows people, and she loved you in the outfit.”

Bog reached around his mother and hugged her.

“Thanks, Mother.  Just, tell me if you’re going to do anything else like that.”

After that, Bog left his speechless mother standing there while he called Stuff and Thang to figure out logistics for more costumes.

At the next practice, all arrived, excited to know that they were in the competition, and that more opportunities to sing were coming.  Bog began talking to them outside about it, since Dawn was too eager to know.

It was not until Bog was almost done that anyone noticed that another unrelated car had pulled up behind Sunny’s car.  The owner of the bright green jaguar got out and swaggered toward Marianne.

“Marianne, buttercup! What’s all this? Are ya singing without me?”

“Go away, Roland!” was Marianne’s automatic response.

“Now that’s not nice, considering I came here to sing to you.  It’s just a little something special for this wonderful time of year.”

“It’s the worst time of the year,” spat out Marianne.

Roland ignored her in favor of getting on his knees and beginning to sing in his affected Southern accent.

“They’re singing ‘Deck the Halls’, but it’s not like Christmas at all.  ’Cause I remember when you were here, and all the fun we had last year!”

Marianne threw a snowball at Roland’s chest in warning when he finished the first verse.  Roland got up and stalked toward Marianne.  She put up her fists, ready for when he got in range.

Roland finally approached her as he got to “Baby please come home”, and that was when a snowball came flying into his open mouth.  For a few moments, Roland coughed and sputtered as he got all the snow out of his mouth.

“Good shot, sir,” said Thang.

“Thank you, Thang.” Bog then spoke to Roland.  “Marianne asked you to leave.  I suggest you do so.”

“I’ll do as I please, you, ah!”

It was at that moment that yet another snowball came flying at Roland, this one larger and aimed at his groin.  If Roland was not mistaken, there were also rocks in the snowball, and it seemed to come from Marianne’s direction.

“Well done, Marianne,” said Bog, clearly impressed.

“Thanks, Bog.  I wish I had thought of his face first,” she said, giving Bog a wink and smirk.

“Marianne, I’m not leaving until you agree to go out with me again.”

“Then it looks like you’re stuck there until you die of frostbite.  Goodbye, Roland.  Get out of my life.”

“Brutus?” asked Bog.  “Would you escort the annoying man back to his car? He seems frozen to a spot on my yard, and I’d like him removed.”

Brutus gave Roland a sinister grin, and Roland stood his ground, sure that Brutus was bluffing.  He made a bad choice.

As Brutus carried a flailing Roland to his car, Roland screamed, “I’ll get you back yet, Marianne! See if I don’t! You _will_ love me, even if I have to prove it in song at the competition!”

Brutus sat on Roland’s car hood until Roland left, still swearing revenge.

“That was different,” said Thang when all was quiet.

“I rather enjoyed that,” said Bog.  “Marianne, are you alright?”

“I’m fine, Bog,” said Marianne, coming out of her contemplative moment.  “I could’ve taken care of him, you know.”

“I know you could.  But, he was on my property, so it gives me more excuses, and less chance of you getting in trouble for breaking every bone in his body.”

“True, but it also makes you a target, Bog.  Now Roland’s going to come after you as well as me.  Having dealt with his stalking tendencies for two years now, I know how he works.  He’s a slippery one, and persistent.  He’ll try to stop us from winning.”

“What can one guy do? Don’t worry, Marianne.  We’ll take him on together.  He doesn’t stand a chance by himself.”

“He won’t come by himself.  He’ll bring an army,” said Marianne, looking concerned as she headed into Bog’s home.

Marianne’s mood did not lift for the remainder of the evening, despite Bog kept trying to find ways to improve her spirits.  At the end, Dawn came over to him.

“She gets like this when Roland appears.  Just wait, it’ll pass.  He’s bad news, whatever it was he did to her.”

“You don’t know?” asked Bog in astonishment.

“No, she refuses to tell me.  All I do know is that she called off her wedding on Christmas Day because of him.  It’s enough to make me dislike him for doing this to Marianne.”

“She deserves better,” said Bog.  He resolved to help Marianne get rid of Roland, no matter what he had done.  Part of him wanted to know, but he had no desire to force her to say anything she did not feel comfortable saying.

“She does deserve better,” said Dawn, “just like you do.”

Next Chapter: Caroling, Caroling

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s Notes: I don't own Strange Magic, or any of the songs mentioned. All rights go to their respective owners. It’s a little more bittersweet, but I think it takes care of everything I wanted in this chapter, the good and bad. Now that Roland is around, he’s going to cause more problems/stress as only he can. The combination of songs made sense in my head and when I experimented on youtube, so I hope it works for you as well. Thanks for staying with me and all the kind words! I really appreciate it. I hope you enjoyed reading!


	4. Chapter 4: Caroling, Caroling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Roland shows himself and makes trouble for our favorite carolers. Said carolers sing at two different places, and there is much cuteness and bonding.

_Caroling, caroling now we go;_

_Christmas bells are ringing._

_Caroling, caroling through the snow;_

_Christmas bells are ringing._

_Joyous voices sweet and clear_

_Sing the sad of heart to cheer._

_Ding, dong, ding, dong,_

_Christmas bells are ringing._

 

Marianne was worried.

Roland had done nothing yet (i.e., had not appeared in five days); that was not normal.  She never went that long without seeing his ugly (in her mind) face.  He was planning something, and she was afraid that she had ruined Bog’s chances of winning the singing competition.  Marianne really wished at times that her father had not convinced the officers to laugh off her complaints about Roland stalking her.  He appeared enough that it caused her pain, but her father simply did not believe her.  So why should anyone else?

Marianne would do everything in her power to hold back Roland.  She would punch him until he forgot, if she was ever allowed to do such a thing.  Bog was a big boy, though, and he could take care of a little competition.  The problem would be if Roland tried to dig up stuff on someone in the group, and Marianne had no idea if anyone in Bog’s group could be a target.  She kept her worries to herself, even if Bog did notice her low mood.  At least he knew what Roland could do, now. 

But in the meantime, she had bigger concerns, such as performing at a local church’s Christmas festival, full of loud games, music being blasted from speakers, and steaming hot cocoa to keep the hands warm while outside in the snow.  Sunny drove the big van of the six of them again, with Bog and others behind.  As before, both Bog and Marianne instructed their fellow group members to keep their focus on them, but this time, they knew that they be doing it on purpose.

Imp and the rest of the basses were on a tighter leash with regard to their shenanigans while singing, as both Bog and Marianne were giving them threatening looks.  Bog alone was enough to keep them in line for fear of problems at work, but Marianne’s casual mention of snow coming out of every article of clothing they were wearing made them pause.

At the beginning of the festival, the group split apart.  Dawn, Sunny, and the triplets wanted hot chocolate, so they took orders for everyone else in the group.  Marianne was the only who did not want any.

“Why don’t you want hot chocolate, Tough Girl?” asked Bog as he rubbed his hands together before putting them into his pockets.  “It’s too cold to not want anything.”

“I don’t think you know my history with hot chocolate,” said Marianne with a smile.  She continued, “Within twenty minutes of me holding it, there will be no more hot chocolate left in the cup, usually because I somehow managed to throw it onto myself or spilled it on someone else.  I only threw it on purpose once, and that was at Roland’s face last year.  Now _that_ was fun.”

Bog grinned at the mention of Roland. 

“I’m sure it was a good look for him,” said Bog, enjoying the images of Roland covered in hot chocolate, his golden hair ruined.

“The best, besides with two black eyes.  But he’s gotten faster about escaping that,” said Marianne with a huff.

Soon after that, Dawn and the others came back with hot cocoa, and Sunny handed Bog two cups.

“Two cups?” asked Marianne, trying to give Bog a hard time as he leaned his face over the hot steam.

“Leave me alone,” grumbled Bog, still keeping his face over the sweet stuff.  “Sometimes, even if you don’t like drinking it, you need to have it.  Not all of us are blessed with the ability to stay warm.”

“That’s for sure,” said Thang, clapping a hand on Bog’s lower back.  “Boss can’t stay warm to save his life.”

“Did I ask for your help?” ground out Bog to Thang.  Thang recognized the tone as Bog telling him that he had said too much.  He made himself scarce.

“So we’ll do the song combinations halfway through and at the end, right?” asked Marianne, trying to distract Bog from scaring Thang.

“Yes, let’s do it then.  They seemed pretty able to handle it at practice.  We have the same list of songs, right?”

Marianne got out her list and compared it to Bog’s.  They had been sending emails back and forth to one another for the last couple days, trying to hash out the exact list for that day and the hospital in a couple days.  The fact that it consisted mostly of them arguing about which songs were least objectionable and then making fun of said songs with their own additions to the lyrics was not mentioned between them, but they had enjoyed it thoroughly.  After one email, Marianne really wished that Bog could make the basses add in additional reindeer to the song, so that Bruce, Marvin, and Clyde the Camel could be mentioned.  But, neither place they were going to seemed appropriate for Ray Stevens and his Christmas song. 

So, too, had Bog wished that Trans-Siberian Orchestra’s “What is Christmas” could have been sung by them, but neither place seemed appropriate for the rather anti-Christmas lyrics that he and Marianne loved.  Marianne had brought it up after someone started to play “What Christmas Means to Me” at work, and she had much to say about what it meant to her. 

“Ugh, they’re playing that song again.  That’s not what Christmas is,” she wrote to Bog, “as everyone is forced to be nice to others.  It ought to be done all the time, if anything.  Shouldn’t the Christmas spirit live on, not just until December 25? It’s stupid, and so over-commercialized.”

“Agreed.  Christmas is overdone,” replied Bog back at once, glad that they were no longer arguing about what songs to include.  This topic he enjoyed much more.  “Who cares about candles and mistletoe? It just forces us to go out and drive ourselves crazy trying to make everything perfect, when it never will be.  Who would willingly want to do that?”

“Not me.  I think Trans-Siberian Orchestra had it right when they made ‘What is Christmas’.  Now that song is my mantra,” she replied back, satisfied that Bog would agree.

“Mine, too,” answered a not-very-surprised Bog.  “Which part is your favorite, besides all of it?”

Marianne went on to say that her favorite part was when it asked if people would discover that Christmas was a disease, making Bog almost snort milk out of his nose, as he had been eating lunch at the time. 

Bog responded back after recovering, saying that his favorite part was when happiness and fraternal bliss were called lies.  But, once he started thinking about the song, he typed out the first words of the lyrics at the end, curious to know how Marianne would respond.  She pleased him by typing out the next words to the lyrics, complete with her own commentary. 

That conversation turned into a quote-fest, with both of them not fond of the part about snow, and them both wishing that Christmas would just disappear.  Neither one got much done at work that day, but they both considered it worth it to have some part of their sanity back.  Stuff and Thang had come by several times that day and had seen him smiling, so they decided not to disturb him, lest they ruin his mood and cause him to start yelling. 

Nonetheless, the one time they did have to interrupt, they were glad to find out that it was Marianne who was causing Bog to smile.  Stuff had been watching Bog carefully and telling her thoughts to Thang, who agreed and wanted Bog to be happy and like Christmas.  He thought the best way was to get Bog with Marianne, but Stuff thought it unlikely.          

Even at the festival, both Stuff and Thang watched when Bog talked to Marianne.  His eyes rested on hers a fair amount, despite them being far away and Bog being cold.  Thang took it as a good sign, trying to nudge Stuff when he could.  Usually, he ended up elbowing others in the process, and then they gave him strange looks.  Stuff would shake her head, and then Bog would notice Thang causing trouble and would give him a look to watch himself. 

After the bells rang for the hour, Santa’s Carolers began singing with “Joy to the World” in four-part harmony.  It was upbeat and loud, something their group excelled at, and was likely to draw attention to them.  Sure enough, kids of all kinds wandered over to watch them sing, dragging their parents with them.  After that, they sang “Hark the Herald Angels Sing” in unison, encouraging the audience to join them in singing. 

It was during their next song, “O Come All Ye Faithful”, that Roland and his three lackeys strolled over to the group.  At first, Roland tried to wave at Marianne, but she ignored him.  After that, his perfect smile drooped, and he began making loud, sneering comments to his friends as the group began singing in Latin.

“Santa’s Carolers they’re called? Could’ve fooled me.  More like Strange Carolers, as there’s such an odd-looking group there.  They certainly don’t look like Santa or his elves, just cheap knock-offs in the hats.”

At the end of the song, Marianne, who was nervous upon seeing Roland, marched over to Roland with new-found anger upon hearing his not-so-quiet comments. 

“You have a lot of nerve showing your face here, Roland.”

“It’s a public festival, Buttercup.  I’ll do as I please.  I’m here to try to help you, as it is,” said Roland, trying to reach out to touch Marianne’s face. 

Marianne swatted his hand away before she said, “Nothing you could do would help me, unless you agreed to leave my life entirely.”

“Aww, Sweetheart, that’s not nice to say at Christmastime,” crooned Roland, making tsking noises.

“Your person insults the very name of Christmas,” said Marianne acidly, putting her hands on her hips, trying to protect her group from Roland.

Roland had no good words to come back with, slow as he was, so he settled for the next phase of his plan instead.   

“Be that as it may, Buttercup, I’m still here to win you back, by any means.  This year, I’m joining the extravaganza with you.”

“That’s impossible!” cried out Thang.  “All the spots were taken already.”

Roland just gave Thang an indulgent smile as he said, “The committee was very willing to listen to my plight, of how I had to join and win back my fiancé.  That’s why,” said Roland as he turned around to face the larger group with a louder voice, “I’m here to announce my own group, Roland and the Three Seasons.  We’re an all-male group, far superior with our many years of singing.  We’ll be standing on the opposite side of the field, and we hope you’ll come by and listen to us.  Thanks, everybody.”

With that, Roland bowed to Marianne.  “You’re welcome to join us, Marianne.  We could be a winning team again.”

“Never,” spat out Marianne, trying to punch Roland. 

She was prevented, however, by Bog.  She knew it was Bog because Dawn and Sunny knew better than to stop her, as they had both tried in the past and gotten thrown along with the punch, her angry momentum taking them far.  Bog was the only one brave enough to do so.  He grabbed her hand once he heard Roland make Marianne the offer, as Marianne looked like she wanted to strangle him and run him over on his face with Santa’s reindeer.

“Calm down, Tough Girl.  He’s not worth it.  If you do that, we’re liable to get kicked out of here for causing a fight.  This ain’t exactly the place for a fight.”

Thus restrained by Bog, Marianne continued to give a laughing Roland death glares.  Eventually, Roland left with his cronies, singing Christmas songs as they walked. 

Soon, the crowd around Santa’s Carolers thinned out.  Marianne blamed herself for almost causing a fight, but she knew part of it was just Roland’s magnetic personality and charm.  His smile made the children want to follow him at once, as well as every woman within fifty feet of him.

The carolers pushed on, singing more of the traditional tunes, including “What Child Is This” and “Away in a Manger”.  After that song, their audience doubled as children started to head back to them, as they did not like the shallow Roland for long. 

After a few more songs, the group got their midway special going, starting with Dawn leading a joyful version of “Angels We Have Heard on High”.  Her high notes danced upon the air, light and free as she held the Gloria without needing to breathe.  Her hands spread out in front of her as though she were a conductor leading an orchestra, her eyes trained on the sky as her delighted smile enchanted all around her.  By the end of that song, they got applause.

After that, they led into “Mary, Did You Know?”.  This time, Marianne owned the spotlight, singing the first verse with everyone else making “oohs” in the background.  Bog had trouble concentrating on singing as he listened to her, but he was conscious enough to signal in the men to join with her for the next verse.  When the bridge started, all parts joined in, the sopranos singing a piercing descant.  As the bridge crescendoed, Bog and Marianne made eye contact, cutting everyone off at once. 

For a breath, all was silent.  Then, the four part harmony came back at a more muted level, Bog and Marianne pulling out different parts with each new line to make the song softer until it was only Marianne singing the last line.  At that point, she put everything she had into the last words, giving Dawn a run for her money as she faced the audience with a small smile and held onto “I Am”.  

The group received loud applause after Marianne stopped singing.  Then, the group announced that they were taking a fifteen minute break to get more hot chocolate and warm up (at least for Bog). 

Bog found himself surrounded by Stuff, Thang, and Imp while getting warm, all of them concerned about what Roland might do to them, and their concerns about having Marianne there.  Bog did his best to tell them that Marianne hated Roland and supported their group fully.  Imp was not fully convinced that Marianne was not helping Roland somehow, but Stuff and Thang wanted to believe Bog, if only for Bog’s sake.  They could see that Bog felt passionately about having Marianne be a part of the group.   

When the break was done, they started out with “The First Noel” and kept on going from there.  As they ended their singing, the carolers sang “O Holy Night”, letting the sopranos sing all the high notes to their contentment while the altos sang the melody.  The basses and tenors added in harmony until the end, when the sopranos belted out the penultimate “O night divine”.  They sang the last one as well, their words a quick decrescendo.

To end their singing, the group sang “Silent Night” in unison, asking everyone to join in with them.  Everyone around them did.

Once the group finished, they were bombarded with questions about their songs and style.  Bog and Marianne did their best to answer questions and say no to more pleas to sing longer at the festival.  Bog wanted to agree to sing for more people at other events for practice, but he could see that Marianne was hesitant, so he took their contact information to check his schedule.  After that, the two headed for the warmth of the indoors, as everyone else had separated and was wandering through the festival.

Stuff and Thang had taken to looking at the decorated trees on display, while Dawn and Sunny drank hot chocolate and watched kids act out the Nativity story.  Imp and Brutus had found their way to the game area, and soon they were having two vs many snowball fights. 

Inside, Bog and Marianne stood over the heaters by a window, Bog rubbing his hands as much as possible.  Marianne watched the crowd of people for a time, glad to be away from the chaos and noise.  Finally, she tried to make conversation with Bog, who was still trying to get warm.

“Gee, Bog, I guess you weren’t kidding about getting cold.  Here, let me help,” she said, taking his bare hands in her warm ones.  She rubbed her hands with his, and they stared into one another’s eyes as they enjoyed the feel of Marianne’s soft, lotioned hands (Bog thought that he detected a scent, something flowery) against Bog’s rough, cracked ones.  At some point, Bog felt very warm, but he did not have much of a desire to move or let go of Marianne’s hands.  That thought made him feel very self-conscious, so he reluctantly turned his head away, making Marianne feel uncomfortable as well.

After an embarrassed silence for several minutes, Bog tried, “I’m glad no one asked us to sing ‘Do You Hear What I Hear?’.  I don’t think I could keep a straight face during that song ever since you made that comment in the email about you feeling like you have schizophrenia whenever you sing that song.”

“You’re welcome,” said Marianne, grinning.

“It’s forever ruined for me, which is probably a good thing.  It’s way too overplayed, and I tend to talk over it when I’m around others.  At least now, I can sit back and laugh with myself,” replied Bog, glad to be talking again.

“We’ll laugh together,” said Marianne.  “But, some part of me thinks we should do an arrangement of it for the big day of the extravaganza.  It would be a good fit for a group of our size.”

“True, but I don’t want to consider what we’ll perform there, yet,” said Bog.

“Instead you want to sing more, at other events?” asked Marianne, finally pulling her hands away from Bog’s as she folded her arms.

“Yes, we need it, Tough Girl.  Practice makes perfect,” he said, standing tall in order to prepare to fight.

“We know all the songs.  We’ll be fine.  Christmas is coming, and we all have lives outside of this.  I don’t know if my schedule will allow more, let alone the others in my group,” Marianne replied.

“Your group?” asked Bog, starting to get angry.  “We’re a team, remember?”

Marianne would have responded, but that was when the triplets came and found them, screaming about how they had a great idea for the hospital visit.  Bog and Marianne ceased their argument, and they actually liked the idea the girls had, to make cookies and bring small presents for all the kids they met.  The girls wanted to go out shopping at once, so Marianne was forced to leave with them, much as she wanted to discuss things further with Bog.  Bog did not want Marianne to leave, either, but it was something that they would discuss later.

It would be one of several things they needed to discuss, as the competition was coming up fast.  They needed to wow the judges, especially as Roland had upped his game and had managed to appear on the news with his little group.  All over town, everyone was talking about him, which made Bog and his fellow employees a little nervous.  Bog was certain that once they practiced some kind of special song for the extravaganza, they were sure to win, seeing as they had a larger, more varied group. Marianne was unable to talk much between the festival and the hospital, which made Bog want to talk to her even more when they got together.

When it was time to go to the hospital, all were dressed well, with all but Imp, Marianne, and Bog wearing elf costumes.  The triplets carried their homemade gifts, while the basses carried along extra props.  Imp was torn between excitement to see the kids’ faces, and embarrassment at the costume he was wearing.

Several nurses met the carolers at the doors, leading them to the wing where all the cancer patients were.  The older ones received a song at their bedside from grinning carolers all around, and when it was time to meet the children, Sunny went in first, rushing in with a huge grin on his face.

“Hey, kids! I’m Sunny the Elf! Did you hear the great news?”

All the kids playing quietly turned to him at once, caught up in his excitement.  All shook their heads in anticipation.

“Well, it’s supposed to be a secret, but Santa and Mrs. Claus have come to visit! Isn’t that awesome?”

The kids cheered, but Sunny quickly shushed them.

“Okay, now listen up! Before the Clauses come here, we need to make sure that this room is ready and decorated for them.  How about I bring in the rest of my elf friends, and we sing together while we decorate?”

All the kids that could get up gravitated to him at once, and soon the other elves came in.  They began to sing “Up on Housetop”.  As they sang, garlands, cut-out snowflakes, and tinsel were brought out of boxes and thrown throughout the room. 

At the end of that song, Sunny said, “Hmm, we still have a little more decorating to do.  We need one more song.  What song should we sing, boys and girls?”

All kinds of songs were suggested, and when Sunny heard the one he planned for, he said, “That’s a great idea! That’s who we forgot to ask to help us with decorating, Rudolph! Let’s sing his song and hope that he joins us, okay kids?”

The kids cheered, and all began to sing “Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer”.  Sure enough, Imp hobbled into the room on all fours, wearing a reindeer costume that Bog’s Aunt Plum had lying in her storage, he being the only one small enough to fit it.  He made sure to come in after the decorating was done, which was good; all the kids flocked to him at once, trying to pet him.

“Great job, kids! I think we’re about ready to welcome Santa and Mrs. Claus! Now, what do you think their favorite song is?” he asked as the others got in position, making a welcome line. 

The kids kept giving answers until Sunny put his hands out and said, “Nope! It’s actually Jingle Bells! Those two love to go on sleigh rides together.  Let’s all sing it together!”

As everyone sang, Bog and Marianne made their grand entrance into the large room, Bog decked out in his suit, and Marianne in her outfit.  Neither one liked the idea of lying to children and giving them false hopes, but in that moment, as all the kids looked up excitedly at them and asked for hugs from both, neither one could say no to ruin the children’s hope and excitement for Christmas.  For some, it would be their last Christmas.  Both were well-aware of what cancer could do to a loved one, and so they both put aside their hatred and put on smiles for the children, wanting them to stay innocent and enjoy their time together.  When they entered, any kids that might have doubted that Santa would come immediately changed their perspective, big smiles replacing the sad frowns on their faces.

Bog and Marianne continued to stand as they fielded questions from the children, some asking the normal questions about how they made so many toys and could do it all in one night.  Bog and Marianne stumbled through those questions as best they could.

Then, one little girl at a coloring table asked them a question.

“What’s your favorite animal?”

Marianne said what her actual favorite animal was without thinking.  “I love butterflies.  They’re so delicate and beautiful.”

“But why?” asked the girl.  “You don’t get those in the North Pole.”

“Exactly,” said Bog, trying to avoid answering the question.  “Butterflies are beautiful, just like my wife.  Wouldn’t she be a great butterfly?”

Marianne blushed at the compliment, and Bog realized belatedly what he had said out loud.  He hoped that everyone assumed he said it for show, not because he really did find Marianne attractive, especially when she wore the Mrs. Claus outfit.

All of the kids believed him, and they cheered at once for the idea.  Marianne could not make eye contact with Bog, but she was smiling more after that. 

After that, it was decided that they should sing more, so Bog and Marianne took song suggestions from the kids.  One girl wanted to sing “Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree”, so they sang that and “Jingle Bell Rock”.  One boy started singing “Nuttin’ for Christmas” all by himself, so they joined in with him, as well as sang “I Want a Hippopotamus for Christmas” and “All I Want for Christmas Is My Two Front Teeth”. 

When it was time to hand out early presents, all took turns handing out gifts to the children, telling the kids how good and brave they had been that year.  The kids hugged everyone and wanted to sit on Santa’s lap anyway, much to Bog’s concern.  But, Marianne smiled and sat beside him, keeping a hand on his shoulder.  Bog felt a little more fortified after that gesture of solidarity, and he was glad that Marianne would share the burden with him.

Boys and girls took a turn to sit with one of the Clauses.  They would still tell them what they wanted for Christmas, whispering it in their ears.  Bog felt a great sense of peace as each child came and sat on his lap, no fear at all of him.  It was rare that that happened for him.  For Marianne, she felt much joy as she saw the excitement in the children’s eyes; she knew she was doing something special for these kids.

When it was time to go, the carolers finished up with “Little Drummer Boy” and “Frosty the Snowman”, saying how they would be back, just like Frosty.  As Marianne left, she felt a tug on her pant leg.  She stopped, making Bog stop with her, and looked down to find the girl who had asked her the question about her favorite animal. 

The girl smiled timidly and said, “Thank you for visiting.  I made you a drawing.”

Marianne took the sheet and saw that girl with her limited skills and crayons had made a red butterfly with a head.  Next to the red butterfly was a purple butterfly, with a head on top that looked like Marianne with her short, dark hair.

Marianne got down on her knees and gave the girl a tight hug.  “How did you know my favorite color was purple?”

“I didn’t,” said the girl.  “But purple’s my favorite color, too.”

“Thank you.  I love it!” Marianne said.

Eventually, Bog tugged on her so that they could leave.  Marianne got up and took one last look at the drawing.  She showed it to Bog, pointing at the red butterfly.

“Is the red butterfly supposed to be me?” asked Bog as he looked at the drawing.

“Yes!” cried the girl.  “Now you’re together.”

It was Bog’s turn to hug the girl, and then the two left.

As they walked out, Marianne asked Bog, “Why did we come here, Bog? This doesn’t seem like your sort of thing to do, normally.”

“You’re right; it isn’t,” said Bog, shrugging his shoulders.  “But, seeing as the money we win in the competition will be donated to cancer research, I felt as though this would be good to do.”

“This is all going to cancer research? Why?” asked Marianne, looking down.

“My father died of cancer.  It hurt to lose him early in life. I don’t wish that on anyone,” said Bog after a pause.  He did not like talking about his father, but this was important.  This was also Marianne, and he trusted her with the information.  He saw that Marianne looked pale as well.

 “My mother died of cancer, too,” said Marianne, meeting Bog’s eyes.  “I was really young, but I still remember how she looked in the hospital.  Thank you.”

The rest of the walk out was silent.  Once outside the hospital, Bog brought Marianne over to his car, his mind now on business.  “Tough Girl, I’m driving you home.  We need to discuss some things.”

Bog had purposefully driven by himself so that he could talk to Marianne.  He had planned to talk on the way there as well, but Marianne had been running late due to helping the triplets with the gifts.

Marianne looked like she wanted to argue, but she knew better.  She got in, with several catcalls in the distance from Sunny and Imp. 

On the ride home, the two discussed Roland and prepping for competition.  Both were still coming up with songs, but what few ideas they had seemed to match.  Neither one had any idea what kind of big thing they could do for the finale, as their reindeer and Santa act worked best with children.  They needed something bigger.

They also argued about how much more practicing they should do.

“I think we’ve done enough performances in public,” said Marianne, standing up for herself.

“No, we haven’t,” said Bog, starting to become frustrated.  “We’re still not a united team, and I keep seeing or hearing about Roland and his great little quartet.  We have to do something about them.”

“There’s nothing we _can_ do,” said Marianne, resigned.  “He’s already in.  We both have good PR, so it all comes down to how we perform at the extravaganza.  We need to do our weekly practice for that, and we should be good.”

“That’s not enough,” said Bog.  “We need to do something else.”

“But what?” asked Marianne, her voice rising.  “I’m only available this week once, as will Sunny and Dawn be.  All of the people who want us asked for other days.  How do we work around that?”

“I don’t know,” said Bog, losing steam.  “But I feel like there’s more we need to do.”

“I don’t think there is,” said Marianne, patting him on the shoulder consolingly.  “For your sake, I wish there was more that could be done.” 

It was at that moment that Bog’s cell phone began to ring.  He saw that it was his Aunt Plum, and he figured she wanted to know how the costumes she lent him had worked out.  He owed her that at least.

“Hang on a second, Tough Girl.  Let me talk to my aunt and thank her.  Aunt Plum?” he asked as he answered the call, the call going through the Bluetooth in his car and heard through the speakers.

“Boggy? Is that you?”

“Yes, Aunt Plum,” said Bog, annoyed at being called that name.

“How did the hospital visit go? Did the costumes work?” she asked, her perky voice making Marianne wonder how someone who owned a retail store could be so happy at this time of year.

“Yes, auntie.  They worked great.  Thanks so much again for letting us use them,” said Bog in earnest.

“Great! Now, I know your mother has mentioned it before, but I’m going to ask you again, as a favor to me since I helped you.  Are you _sure_ you can’t help out and play Santa at my store one day this week? You could bring the whole caroling group with you, if you wanted.  It would be good publicity.  Please? My normal Santa had to cancel.”

Bog and Marianne exchanged puzzled looks.  After thinking for a moment, Marianne nodded at the speakers and smiled.  Bog smiled as well.  “What day would it be, auntie?” he asked.

Plum squealed in delight.  “Oh, wonderful! It would be three days from now.  Can you make it?”

Marianne nodded, so Bog said, “Yes, we can all make it, I think.  We’ll check when we get home.”

“We? Who else is there with you, nephew?” asked Plum, suddenly curious.

“One of the other carolers,” said Bog, trying to deflect attention away from him and his non-existent love life.

After that, Plum told Bog the times she needed him to work there, and then she hung up. 

“Thank you, Marianne, for being willing to do this,” said Bog, relieved, slumping his shoulders.

“If it will put you more at ease, then I’m willing to do it,” said Marianne with a small smile at seeing his relief.  “I’m not thrilled about the idea of lots of hyped up kids asking nosy questions and being surrounded by bedlam, but after today, I’m a little more willing to consider being Mrs. Claus again.  It was sweet to do that for the kids.  I felt like we made a difference in their lives.  They were well-behaved.”

“Yes, those kids are the exception, I expect,” said Bog.  “But this is quite convenient.  I wonder why the guy canceled?”

“Not sure,” replied Marianne, “but I wonder if it has anything to do with the _very_ large blizzard we’re expecting to get that night.”

“It could be,” said Bog, his eyes lighting up at the idea of snow.  “It’ll be a fine night to be outdoors.” 

“Oh yes,” said Marianne in agreement.  “It’ll be a good way to end a busy, stress-filled day: going outside and enjoying the snow.”

“I’ll cream you in a snowball fight,” said Bog smugly.

“Doubtful,” said Marianne, her brown eyes taking on a fiery quality.  “I’m the best snowball maker there is.”

“I’m the best thrower,” said Bog as he parked the car in front of her home. 

“Prove it,” said Marianne, taunting Bog.  “I don’t believe you.  Bring it on, Santa.  I can take you.”

“Gladly,” said Bog, looking excited by the prospect.  “After we finish at the store, you and I are going to have a snowball fight.”

Next Chapter: Santa Claus is Coming to Town

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s Disclaimer: No, I don't own Strange Magic or any of the songs I mention. The drama will stick around, but given that it's me writing, there will be plenty of other stuff happening. It's still a light, happy fic. Next chapter is going to be a big chapter, for many reasons. You can probably already guess some of what might happen, and knowing that I love cheesy Hallmark Christmas movies, expect much silliness and cuteness. The lyrics for next chapter work well in context, but based on the overall content, I’d say that the title is most appropriate of all the songs I could use for next chapter. Thanks so much for reading and for your support of this story! I hope you enjoyed!

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: No, I don’t own Strange Magic, or any of the songs mentioned. I’m going to have a grand time with including lots of Christmas songs, just so you know. Sorry not sorry for all the song references. I love Christmas music a lot, if you couldn’t tell. All rights go to their respective owners. I know I shouldn’t be starting another story with open, unfinished stories around, but a Christmas-themed story was absolutely called for and needed. I tried to make sure all the songs fit since there won’t be any other types of songs mentioned in this story, for once not including any of the songs from Strange Magic. My plan is to finish this story by Christmas, so let’s see how that works out. I’ve got lots of inspiration at least. Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed!

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Roland Got Run Over By A Reindeer](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5452091) by [moonlit_wings](https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonlit_wings/pseuds/moonlit_wings)




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